


As Well As Your Heart

by ponchard



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Dancing, Demons, Fluffy from the main character's POV?, Gen, Happy, It's a totally trustworthy smile, Joyful, LEAVE THE HINTERLANDS, One Shot, See this smile?, Spirits, The Fade, The Hinterlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponchard/pseuds/ponchard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a fluffy AU crackfic about dancing. Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha. *eye twitches*</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Well As Your Heart

The memories ripple away at my word, flying, fleeting.  _I'll never learn to dance._ But there's something deeper, echoing under. Dancing isn't for her, for her there's paperwork, planning, rigid rules. Other people put on bright clothes, jumping, kicking, laughing, but here it can't be.

I'd laughed and kicked and jumped, trying to teach. People sometimes dance when I leave, sometimes I watch. I thought I knew how. But as she watched, she left her hurt locked up, bubbling higher.

Wrong. Wrong feet, wrong steps, wrong something. Something missing. What is it? 

No matter. "Forget." _  
_

I'm ready to try again, when everything goes loud.

_What the bloody Void is that?_

_Now isn't the time to sleep, get up! Sod it, Helga! This isn't funny. Get up. Get up._

_Go with Papa! Run!_

Right away I'm floating free, following the sound. Swelling around me, taking me where I can most help, pulling me to the source of the hurt.

_Bleeding means I'm alive, right? Guts are good too. There they are. Oh, Maker._

_Leave him! That's an order!_

_My spells slide off it... no. No, no, no, no._

A rift.

Too late, I see it, feel myself skidding through. The chorus of screams warps, loud, loud, too loud. They wring me from myself, wriggling and wretched. Burning away until I'm only outsides.

But it's all right. I can call ice around me, bend the cries of pain that give me purpose. They can't hurt me. They can make me stronger.

Everything sharpens, suspended in silence. The world tilts, snaps into place. Here... is exactly where I can help.

The small horned one wanted dancers in sparkling clothes, wrapped in joy. And here is the answer. Garb so bright, it's almost painful to look. Like counting birds against the sun.

The dress leaps away, mischievous, flashing its curving knives. Of course, it wants to dance too! I laugh and spin into the air, flinging glittering crystals around me. With each spin, I feel stronger. No wonder they love to dance! But I can do more.

Power flows into my hands, shooting forward in a snowy beam. The clothes writhe and flutter, the power flowing back to me as they slow. My feet scrabble on the ground, stomping out the steps I remember, spinning into the air again.

The clothes flick knives at me, a new stanza starting. But I know all the steps now, and they bounce off the ice, stuttering against the dirt. Useless as their owner.

 _Useless._ The word knocks around inside me, whirring in new patterns. Showing me symbols to stop a heart, stitch it shut forever.

I sling them to the ground, and the lines flare, ready. In moments, cold spears up at my command, clutching into the brightness. It crumples, wailing  _Twelve, twelve. Why is this twelve?_ and I'm more real than I ever have been.

The silence in my hood sings a reedy waltz as I step into my dancing clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> My actual thought process: _Hey, isn't it weird how Cole has trouble dancing? Compassion spirits become despair demons when they get corrupted, shouldn't he be super pro at dancing? I should write a fic about a compassion spirit who gets ripped through a breach and suddenly learns to dance. It will all be good, clean, laugh-at-ballerina-demons fun! What could possibly be dark or depressing about a spirit of compassion losing its mind?_


End file.
